lola. she/her. nineteen. multifandom writer. aries. broke college student. infj-t. c.ai bot creator. current hyper fixation: marvel
ᯓ welcome to my blog! please feel free to request something!
what i will write: sfw, nsfw, x reader, darker topics, angst, fluff, smut, wlw, wlm. msg me if you have a specific ask!
fandoms i will write/make a bot for: avengers, xmen, basically all marvel, star wars, harry potter, dc, obx, supernatural, the boys, bg3, + more.
i mainly write for afab/gn readers. i am open to more fandoms and tropes, just ask! please be aware that i do have a job and am a busy bee so my posts are pretty inconsistent.
pairing: thunderbolt!bucky barnes x f!thunderbolt!younger!reader
summary: daily sparring sessions with bucky always toe the line between playfulness and tension. but today, that tension snaps. when another round ends with you straddling him on the mat, it sets off a chain reaction of confessions, teasing, and desire too long buried. bucky finally stops holding back, and so do you.
word count: 8.8k
warning(s): 18+ explicit content warning, smut, mature themes, light swearing, some power dynamics, dry humping, unprotected p in v, semi-public setting, mention of thunderbolts*, age difference, reader is described with afab anatomy
a/n: so bucky is officially my current fictional man of the month. like i was always a loki girly, but tumblr has converted me... anyways, i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please feel free to like, comment, or reblog! <3 also, requests are open!
killshot - magdalena bay
“again,” bucky grunted as he got to his feet, breathless but stubborn.
the two of you were in the thunderbolts training facility, doing your daily sparring. strength wise, you were both pretty much on the same level. but, for some reason, you always seemed to come out on top. literally. it was usually you pinning him down.
you rolled your eyes from where you stood across the mat. “you sure? that’s the third time i’ve had you on your back today.”
his lips twitched. “don’t flatter yourself.”
"too late for that…" you chuckled, backing into your stance. “c’mon, grandpa.”
that got him moving.
he hated when you called him that. grandpa? sure, he was over 100 years old, but he sure didn't feel or seem like it. plus, a lot of those years he didn't even remember.
he didn't want you to think of him as too old for you.
the two of you danced in circles, boots quiet against the padded floor. it wasn’t serious, just the usual, but there was always an edge when it came to you and bucky. teasing. testing. a little too much eye contact.
he lunged. you dodged. your leg hooked around his, and with a twist and a push, he hit the mat again with a thud.
you landed straddling his hips, pinning his shoulders with your hands, grinning down at him.
“fourth time,” you said smugly. “you getting rusty, barnes?”
he didn’t answer right away. just blinked up at you with that unreadable expression, metal fingers twitching at your sides like he was debating something.
then, without warning, he moved.
in a blur of motion, he twisted under you, caught you off balance, and the next thing you knew, you were the one flat on your back. his body hovered over yours, one knee braced between your legs, hands pinning your wrists to the mat.
your breath hitched. why was that so hot?
trying to compensate for the blush creeping onto your cheeks, you scoffed, “cheap shot.”
“all’s fair,” bucky replied, his voice low. you could tell he was partially lost in thought, like he was still debating something.
you shifted under him, pretending like your pulse wasn’t hammering in your throat. “you gonna make a move, or just hover like a weirdo?”
his grip on your wrists didn’t tighten, but his gaze did… sharp, focused, like he was searching for something in your face.
“i think i just did,” he said, letting out a dry, short laugh.
your breath hitched again.
you knew what he meant.
the words hung there for a beat too long.
his eyes were bracing for rejection, like he’d already decided he could handle it.
then, breaking the silence, he gave a small smirk, “you know, i usually just let you pin me.”
you laughed, short, breathless. "oh, so you're saying you don't even try?"
"maybe i just like the view when you're on top of me."
you stared up at him, feeling like your heart stopped beating.
then you swallowed, speaking in an unsure tone. "you being serious?"
"i'm not the messing-around type. you should know that by now."
"good," you smiled, "neither am i."
his smirk turned into a grin, “so… rematch?”
you hummed, “maybe. only if you’re playing for keeps.”
then your grin turned into a smirk, your eyes darkening. "or… we could do something else."
he snickered, the challenge in his eyes shifting into something deeper, more intense. he lowered his voice, just enough for you to barely hear him.
“something else, huh?”
you nodded slowly, heart racing, the heat between you suddenly more than just from exertion. his metal fingers brushed against your jaw, light as a feather but enough to make you catch your breath.
“tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice husky, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin.
you swallowed, eyes looking up into his almost innocently, words barely a whisper. “right here. right now.”
he chuckled low, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.
then, his lips were on yours. rough. passionate. heated.
he pulled your bodies up to a sitting position, you in his lap, straddling him.
your hands were all over each other. hungry.
“tell me if i’m moving too fast,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with desire but a hint of hesitation.
you whispered against his mouth, “don’t stop.”
his lips curled into a slow smile before dipping down to kiss the sensitive skin along your neck. the roughness of his stubble mixed with the softness of his touch made your skin shiver.
you grounded your hips down on him, aiming for his growing bulge, causing him to let out a low grunt.
“i’m right here,” he murmured, voice low and whiny. “just tell me what you want.”
your hands explored the broad planes of his chest beneath his shirt, feeling the steady beat of his heart. your fingers curled into the fabric as you pressed closer, bouncing on his lap slowly.
"you, bucky. i want you."
he unraveled before you. his hands were on your hips, guiding your grinding to hit where he need you most just right. his face was in the crook of your neck. you could feel his quick breaths against your skin.
you whined, making yourself feel good against him. one of your hands snaked around the back his neck, moving up slowly to tangle your fingers in hair. the other moved down from his chest to his abs slowly, stopping right at his belt.
one hand remained on your hip, while the other had already unclasped your bra and pulled your shirt over your head.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and searching. “god, you're beautiful."
then his gaze softened ever so slightly, "we don’t have to rush.”
you shook your head, breathless but sure. “i don’t want to wait.”
his smirk deepened, “then let me show you how much i’ve been holding back,” he murmured, voice thick with need.
his lips found your jaw, trailing hot kisses down to your throat. you tipped your head back, giving him better access, grinding on him in a faster pace now. you tugged on his shirt, pulling it up slightly.
he chuckled as he moved his hand to pull his shirt the rest of the way over his head.
his lips went back to your neck, leaving a trail from your throat back up to your mouth, where he captured your lips in a kiss that was all tongue and heat and longing.
“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, “i’ve wanted this for so long.”
you smiled against his mouth, fingers trailing down his chest, feeling every muscle tense beneath your touch.
“then don’t hold back,” you whispered.
he grinned as his hands roamed lower, "i know you like having me on my back, but it's your turn, again."
his smirk widened as he eased you back onto the mat, hovering over you with that smug face.
“payback’s a bitch, huh?” he murmured, voice low and teasing as he brushed his lips along your jaw. “but don’t worry… i’ll make sure you enjoy every second of it.”
he slid your pants and panties down your legs, his mouth following the path of his hands, slow and deliberate, worshiping every inch of skin he revealed with eyes drinking you in like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. you were breathless under his gaze.
you tugged at his belt, fingers fumbling with need, and he let out a soft, breathless laugh, helping you shed the last of his clothes.
he captured your lips in another kiss, before pulling back to position himself in front of your entrance. "you sure about this? we can slow down."
you looked up at him, "i'm sure, bucky." your voice was confident and firm.
his jaw tensed at your words, like restraint was hanging by a thread.
“okay,” he breathed, voice husky and deep. “okay.”
he kissed you again, slower this time, like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth. his hands smoothed down your sides, grounding you, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched as he finally pushed into you.
his movement was slow, deliberate, patient…
he smiled, soft, lopsided, nothing like the usual cocky smirk. just him.
his name fell from your lips in a whisper, and he caught it with another kiss, like he’d been waiting to hear it just like that.
bucky held you like you were something precious, like every inch of you mattered. and maybe, to him, it did.
your bodies moved in rhythm. his hands mapped your body with quiet touch, no rush, just the kind of intent that said this wasn’t just want, it was care. maybe even more.
the air between you was heavy, warm, laced with the sound of shared breaths and quiet murmurs of each other’s names.
it wasn't long before you both unraveled in each other's arms, your movements halting.
your bodies laid tangled in one another. bucky let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple. “so… still think i’m getting rusty?”
you laughed, breathless and content. “nah. you’re just finally playing to win.”
he smirked, brushing sweaty strands from your face, his tone teasing but his gaze full of something much softer. “then i hope you’re ready to keep losing.”
pairing: thunderbolt!yelena belova x f!reader
summary: when yelena shows up at your apartment at 2 am, bleeding and sarcastic as ever, it’s not the first time... and probably won’t be the last. you’re just a civilian with a quiet life and no medical training, but somehow, you’ve become her nurse and the place she escapes to. tonight, the injuries are worse. the banter is softer. and maybe, just maybe, something’s shifting between you.
word count: 7k
warning(s): thunderbolts* mentioned, WLW, some angst, fluff, injury and blood, medical terms, mild language, mutual pining
a/n: i am aware that canonically, yelena is meant to be ace. this is just a fun little story! i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please feel free to like, comment, or reblog! <3 also, requests are open!
love me - elvis presley
it was around 2 am when you heard a knock at your apartment door. you crawled out of bed, twisting the door handle open. you already knew who it was.
yelena stood before you, scratched up, bleeding, holding her side.
"well, you look like shit." you uttered, moving to let her inside.
"that's no way to greet a guest." she answered as she entered, her accent thick.
your relationship was strange. you were just a normal civilian with a quiet life, stable job, and a boring apartment. yelena was a trained russian assassin and a new avenger. on paper, you didn't exactly have much in common.
you’ve known her for a few months now and while you wouldn’t call her a friend, she appears at your door a few times a week: hungry, sarcastic, full of cryptic jokes. she once admitted to you that your place felt like an escape… from the thunderbolts, her job, her past. it was the only place she felt halfway normal.
ironically, the way you had met was far from normal. yelena was bleeding then too. she had kicked open your door, thinking it belonged to a criminal. instead, you stood before her: a stunned civilian holding a spatula.
her voice was smooth like honey, and her accent caught you off-guard. "this isn't 3B is it?"
"uhm, no… it's 3D." you had laughed nervously in response, which earned a chuckle out of her. you both felt weirdly at ease for a moment.
that's when you noticed the stab wound in her thigh. after recognizing her as a thunderbolt, you invited her in and patched her up with your cheap first-aid kit... the one you hadn't looked at since you moved in. and from then on, you became her медсестра (nurse), as she liked to call you.
you would never admit it, but you liked when she called you that. you liked the way it sounded coming out of her mouth.
she would come to you when she had so much as a scrape. you weren't exactly qualified or an expert, so you always scolded her about going to a hospital instead. she never listened. she never seemed to care about your lack of expertise. that wasn't the reason she came to see you.
now, you find yourself closing your door, turning to the girl in question, "lena, it's 2 in the morning."
"медсестра (nurse), i need some patching up here." she faked a pout, sitting on your couch in a laidback manner.
you could never deny her. not when she spoke in that teasing tone, or sat back in that maddeningly hot pose.
you groaned, noticing the trail of blood she had left, "you're leaking all over my ikea rug, again. i just steam cleaned that."
"you own a steam cleaner?"
you rolled your eyes, gesturing for her to take a seat at your kitchen table while you retrieved your first-aid kit.
she obliged, sitting back in it comfortably, like she had done so many times before.
you kneeled before her, instructing her to raise her shirt a bit so you could see the wound on her side. you grimaced at the sight of it, noticing it was deeper than her usual wounds. "lena, you should really go to a hospital for this one."
she shook her head, "i don't trust them. you know that, глупый (silly)."
another nickname. you never complained.
you scoffed, grabbing the antiseptic. you began to clean the wound gently. you felt her wince slightly as it hit her skin, but she covered it quickly. she watched you work in silence for a few moments, the air seeming to buzz around you.
"hold still," you muttered, focused, as you carefully cleaned closer to the wound.
"you are very bossy." she smirked, her accent still thick as ever.
you just scoffed in response, leaning back on your heels to survey the wound again.
“this one’s gonna need stitches,” you murmured, shaking your head. “i can’t do those. not properly.”
“i trust you,” yelena said, too fast. too confidently.
you froze for a second, then looked up. she was already watching you, eyes more serious than before. guarded, but open just enough.
did she know what she was doing to you?
“you shouldn’t,” you said, laughing softly, trying to hide how flustered she was making you.
“but i do.” she said again, more firm this time.
she had to know. she had to know what she was doing to you. she had to be aware that she was torturing you.
you didn’t respond. instead, you reached for the superglue and bandages, trying to ignore the way your hands were shaking just slightly. trying not to think about the way she was looking at you.
you did the best you could when it came to closing the wound. you dressed it in gauze and bandages carefully, standing up with a sigh of contentment when you finished.
"you wanna stay the night again?" you asked casually, as you began cleaning up.
she nodded slowly, "if it's not too much."
yelena had stayed over a few times now. you always offered her your bed, but she never accepted. she would usually just stay on your couch.
you hummed, "it's not. you can take the bed." you offered it to her as you always did, expecting her to decline.
"only if you're in it too, властная девушка (bossy girl)."
your breath caught. you couldn't tell if she was joking. neither could she.
this was the answer you had always wished for, but you never expected it.
then she stood up. slowly, carefully, like she was testing something. then she stepped in front of you.
“come to bed. i know you're tired,” she said, not teasing. just asking.
you blinked. “you’re bleeding.”
“then stay close. make sure I don’t die.”
you scoffed out a laugh, giving her a tired look, “that's not funny... but alright. fine.”
she didn’t smile… not exactly. but something eased in her shoulders. you followed her into the bedroom, flipping the light off on your way. the quiet felt heavy, but not uncomfortable.
she lied back in the bed carefully, wincing just a little as she adjusted.
you grabbed an extra blanket and went to hand it to her, but she caught your wrist instead.
“stay,” she looked up at you, this time softer. not a tease. a plea.
you hesitated for just a second, staring down at her fingers wrapped around your wrist. it felt like your heart had stopped.
then, slowly, you nodded. “okay.”
yelena let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. you lied down beside her under the sheets, facing her with your head on your pillow. it was quiet for a few moments as you looked at one another.
then she smiled. god, her smile was beautiful.
“this is nice,” she mumbled.
you huffed a quiet laugh. “bleeding on my sheets is nice?”
she shrugged lightly, smirking. “you make it nice.”
your heart fluttered at that.
hoping she couldn't see the blush creeping up on your cheeks in the darkness, you let out a light scoff. “you gonna get all sentimental on me now, belova?”
yelena smirked, her eyelids getting heavy, “never.”
a second of silence, filled only with both of your breathing. then she whispered...
“…maybe a little.” her eyes were fully closed now.
“goodnight, lena,” you whispered back, closing your own eyes.
her voice was barely audible. “goodnight, моя любовь (my love).”
pairing: bob reynolds x thunderbolt!gn!reader
summary: you’re benched with a broken ankle, stuck in the tower while the rest of the team is out on a mission. the only one left behind with you is bob. what starts as awkward company and bob acting like your nurse slowly turns into something deeper, safe, and comforting.
word count: 5.8k
warning(s): light thunderbolts* spoilers, angst, fluff, brief nightmare , implied trauma, mentions of the void and past trauma related to him, injury (broken ankle), mutual pining, emotional vulnerability, awkwardness, reader likes to read (lol)
a/n: finally wrote for my sweet boy! yelena fic is prob coming next... i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please feel free to like, comment, or reblog! <3 also, requests are open!
chihiro - billie eilish
you hated it. sitting on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket, leg propped up on a pillow. you felt guilty for feeling so comfy. you felt lazy. like you were wasting time.
you had broken your ankle, and found yourself in a boot, unable to walk. so of course, you were forced to sit out of a mission.
bob, who was used to staying back, was clearly excited to have some company for once. he didn't admit to it, but it was obvious. the tower always felt so cold and lonely to him when the team was gone. he always tried to distract himself with books and chores, but none of it compared to having you there with him.
now, he seemed to be glued to your side, staying near you on the couch. still shy, still quiet, still careful not to hover too obviously. he didn’t say much, only asked how your pain was doing or what you needed. every now and then he'd glance over at you, like he was checking to make sure you were still okay. he was acting a little like your nurse. it was sweet.
"do you, uh… need some water or anything?" he looked at you for only a second, before directing his gaze back to the tv. his voice was quiet and hesitant.
you looked up for your book and smiled. "no, i'm fine. thank you though, bobby."
bobby.
he originally hated the nickname when walker called him that. but when you started using it… he grew to love it. maybe he just didn't like walker.
he didn’t respond, and just gave a tiny nod, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile.
you adjusted your blanket again and looked back down at the book in your lap. it was your favorite, one you'd read a million times. but this time, you found yourself rereading the same lines over in your head… your thoughts kept wandering. to your ankle. to the mission the others were on. and to him. quiet, careful, sweet bob, sitting beside you like your own personal shadow.
he watched you like you were something fragile. something important. it made you feel… safe. which was ironic, considering the darkness that everyone knew was hidden inside him.
the void.
he sat there, still as ever, arms folded loosely in his lap. he glanced over at the book that seemed to be stealing all of your attention.
his voice was quiet again, cracking a little at the end. “what book, uhm— what book are you reading?”
you looked up and closed it gently, turning it to show him the cover. “it’s my favorite.”
he blinked, leaning in a little. “really?”
you nodded, watching the way he scanned the cover. he seemed interested in it. he was interested in it because you liked it.
"do you wanna borrow it?" you asked, not sure if he would want to.
his eyes lifted from the cover to your face, surprised.
"are you sure? i don't want to take it if you're reading it…" he rubbed the back of his neck shyly.
"i've read it a dozen times. take it. i think you'd like it." you smiled as he finally accepted it, holding it in his lap like it was something precious.
you don’t remember much after that. you must’ve dozed off, giving into the sense of comfort and safety you were feeling.
what you do remember is the nightmare you had. it was painful, full of the memories and wounds that had been reopened when you went into the void about a year before.
when you blinked awake, you were sitting up, sweating and panicked. the room was dimmer now. it had likely only been a few hours.
and bob was still there. he was already leaning forward, not crowding you, just close enough that you could see the worry in his face.
"you okay?" he asked gently, scanning your face for any answers.
you swallowed hard, finally catching your breath. you wanted to say yes. you wanted to pretend it was nothing.
“nightmare?” he asked before you could speak, "i get those too."
you nodded slowly. “yeah. probably the painkillers.” you let out a half-hearted chuckle.
he hesitated for a second, then reached out, lightly brushing your hand where it lay on your lap.
“can i…?”
you didn’t know what exactly he was offering but you nodded anyway. he carefully took your hand in both of his. his palms were warm. steady.
"sometimes just knowing you're not alone can help." he smiled softly.
for a moment, comfortable silence stretched between you. then he gave a small, awkward laugh, pulling away slightly.
“sorry. i’m... probably making this worse, huh?”
you shook your head, managing a tired smile. “no, it’s… nice. thanks, bobby.”
he looked down at your hands, squeezing gently. “nightmares suck.”
“yeah,” you whispered, “but having you here is making it a little less… bad.” you giggled quietly.
he glanced up, eyes soft. “i’m glad i could help.”
you took a deep breath, letting the tension ease out of your shoulders. your eye caught sight of the book, sitting behind him on the couch.
“so,” you gestured to it, trying to lighten the mood, “have you started reading it?"
he looked surprised, then grinned sheepishly, letting go of your hands to grab it. “i, uh, already finished it." he held it out to you.
you blinked in shock, taking it, "finished it?" you opened the book, flipping through the pages.
bob had left pieces of post-its on almost every page, full of handwritten notes. you stared at them in a stunned silence for a second, then let out a soft laugh. “you annotated it?” you asked, shocked... but touched.
he looked flustered, cheeks turning just a little pink. “i—yeah. sorry, i should’ve asked first. i just… i kept thinking about how you loved it so much, and i wanted to understand why… i wanted to remember what stood out. i’ll take them out if—”
“no,” you interrupted, clutching the book a little closer. “don’t. i think i love it even more now.”
he blinked, clearly surprised by your reaction. then smiled, just barely.
for the first time in a while, you both felt comfortable and safe. with each other.
thanks so much for reading <3 as always, requests are open
ᝰ.ᐟ this is part two of off duty! the first part didn't include smut, but this one does, so please keep that in mind.
pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x fem!avenger!younger!reader
summary: days after the tipsy night on the couch, you're left wondering what it meant... especially with bucky acting infuriatingly normal. the tension leads to a steamy exchange between the two, where bucky seems to let go of his gentleman manners for a bit.
word count: 8.2k
warning(s): 18+ explicit content warning, smut, mature themes, light swearing, some power dynamics, alcohol consumption/intoxication (references to past use), fluff, use of nicknames, age gap, mutual confusion
a/n: if you saw the original part two before i deleted it... no u didn't :) i was so shocked by the love of the first part and was super unprepared to make a second, so i made a few indecisive choice lol. i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please feel free to like, comment, or reblog! <3 also, requests are open!
art deco - lana del rey
a few days had passed since that night on the sofa. it was almost as if it had never happened. you were spiraling, wondering if you had imagined it during your drunken haze. you kept replaying that night on the couch, unsure if it was real or some alcohol-fueled fantasy. the only confirmation? the team’s constant teasing.
but bucky? that asshole was silent as ever.
bucky never reacted. he simply ignored the comments. even when the group had found you on the couch and battered you with questions, his expression remained neutral, as if he had no reason to feel awkward. the amount of comments made by tony that he just brushed off was impressive. you, on the other hand, were a flustered, hungover mess.
not to mention you hadn’t really talked to bucky much since then.
well, you had… technically. a few "good mornings," maybe a nod across the gym… nothing that really counted. nothing that explained any of the tension. maybe he was just being friendly, and you misread it. but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different in the way he acted around you. he started sitting closer during movie nights… he'd taunt you and give you a playful smirk every time you so much as tripped on a training mat. it was such a stark difference to how he treated you before that night. he was treating you like a friend, which made you consider whether you wanted him to treat you as something more or not. whether you wanted his hands on you again…
now, you found yourself still in your gear after a mission, standing in front of your mirror. you had been struggling with the straps of your vest, too exhausted to deal with any of it. the fabric was tight, and the clasps just wouldn’t come undone.
you hadn’t even realized bucky was standing in the doorway, watching you, until he stood in front of you.
he likely had heard your grunts of frustration and came to check on you. perfect asshole.
"having trouble?" he gently started removing the straps, helping you out of your gear slowly.
was he doing this on purpose? could he not tell how your breathing became more shallow when he did shit like that? maybe he was torturing you.
"why do you always seem to be helping me out of clothing?" you asked, not realizing how dirty-minded it actually sounded until he snickered, causing your face to go red.
god… he's so hot when he makes that smug ass face.
"you know what i mean—" you rushed to clarify, but he was already smirking.
"you mean those pretty little heels from the other night?" he chuckled, putting your gear away. he turned back to you, closing the distance a little, "you remember that?"
so, you hadn't imagined it. it had actually happened. all this time, he had thought you didn’t remember… you felt a little relieved.
how could you NOT remember? you couldn't look at him all week without feeling yourself get hot.
the adrenaline from his closeness caused your head to swim a bit, "of course i do, 'doll.' i was tipsy, not blackout drunk," you smirked, meeting his gaze, refusing to look away.
bucky grinned, watching you with an amused expression.
"really? you could've fooled me. i thought you forgot the whole thing, or were pretending to."
"what's that supposed to mean?" you narrowed your eyes, still smiling subtly.
you would've never wanted to forget it.
he hummed, "i dunno. you've just been acting kind of distant since that night. you're a little young. thought i might've went too far."
went too far? hell, he didn't go far enough.
you scoffed playfully, tilting your head, "you scared of me or something, old man?"
you didn't think your next words through, unable to stop yourself from just saying what you were thinking, "you didn't go far enough…" your voice came out as a whisper.
you could see that cocky look in his eyes start to break. he bit his lip, shaking his head, "you're killing me, doll. here i am trying to be a gentleman…"
his smirk returned as he stepped closer, "unless you'd like me to stop trying."
all you had to do was give him a nod before his lips smashed onto yours.
the kiss was heated and rough. his hands were roaming all over your body, your fingers tangling into his hair.
he groaned into your mouth, one hand gripping your hip while the other wrapped around the back of your neck like he’d been dying to do this for weeks.
"this what you wanted, doll?" he murmured against your lips. you could feel the smirk.
"i want more," you breathed, gripping onto his shoulders.
his metal hand slid beneath your combat gear top, fingers tracing up your spine. cool against the heat of your skin. his touch was teasing. almost maddeningly slow.
"you sure you can handle more, sweetheart?" he whispered into your neck, lips brushing skin with every word. "you're already shaking."
you were. damn it. the adrenaline rush was affecting you physically.
"shut up," you muttered, trying to push at his chest — not really meaning it. “asshole.”
“that’s more like it,” he grinned. “that’s my girl.”
my girl.
your breath caught.
he noticed. of course he did. you could practically feel his cocky smirk against your neck.
bucky pulled back just enough to look at you again, eyes flicking across your face. you could see the restraint in his eyes… like he was holding himself back, waiting for a sign.
so you gave him one.
one hand slid under his shirt, palms grazing the lines of his abs. your other hand fiddled with his belt. you leaned in, kissed him slow, more deliberate this time. no rush. no panic. just want. desire.
he responded instantly, like he’d been waiting for this since that night on the sofa. his hands gripped your waist, walking you backward until your shoulder blades hit the nearest wall.
“tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips, voice ragged.
you didn’t. obviously.
instead, you dragged his shirt up over his head. that vibranium arm came to rest on the wall beside your head, bracing him, and you, as he pressed closer. the cool of the metal contrasted with the heat of his body, and it made you shiver.
he smiled against your jaw. “still shaking.”
"still an asshole." you snapped back, slightly breathless.
his hand traveled under your top again, “you’re not wearing anything under this,” he muttered, almost like he was scolding himself. “young people these days…” he joked, grinning again.
“then don’t waste time,” you said breathlessly, tugging at his belt.
that did it.
sloppy make out. hands everywhere. your shirt joined his on the floor.
he guided you to the bed, carefully, like he was still asking permission with every step. even in the heat of it, he was gentle. attentive. like if he didn’t handle you right, you’d vanish. still a perfect gentleman.
once there, he wasted no time. he helped you out of your pants, pulling your panties off with them. hovering above you, he moved down, closer to where you needed him most.
“you’re beautiful,” he murmured into your inner thighs, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“bucky—” you breathed, fingers tangling in his hair again as you felt his tongue on your clit.
the way he moved was practiced, but not detached. it was about you. every reaction he pulled from you only made him more desperate, more focused. it wasn’t long before your voice was breaking on his name, back arching off the mattress as he took you apart with nothing but his mouth.
when he finally came up for air, pupils blown, lips swollen, hair messy from your fingers… he simply smirked.
god... he was killing you.
“still want more?”
you nodded, dazed. “god, yes.”
he crawled back over you, leaving a trail of gentle kisses on your skin in his wake.
and when he finally sank into you — need seemed to claw through the both of you, hot and impatient.
not rushed, but there was urgency.
it built slowly until you were unraveling in his arms, and he followed with a groan against your throat.
he held onto you like he had done on the couch that night. when you had fallen asleep in his arms.
for a while, you just lay there, both letting out laughs of disbelief.
"guess chivalry is dead," you joked, flashing him a mischievous smile.
"oh, really?" he gave you an amused grin. "i tried to be a gentleman. you told me to stop trying."
a collection of all of my works, and ideas for future ones <3 ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆
these aren't the only characters or fandoms i'll write for, just my current fixations!
ᯓ★ marvel
james bucky barnes / the winter soldier
off duty - fluff
after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch.
off duty - 2 - smut, 18+
days after the tipsy night on the couch, you're left wondering what it meant... especially with bucky acting infuriatingly normal. the tension leads to a steamy exchange between the two, where bucky seems to let go of his gentleman manners for a bit.
pinned down - smut, 18+
daily sparring sessions with bucky always toe the line between playfulness and tension. but today, that tension snaps. when another round ends with you straddling him on the mat, it sets off a chain reaction of confessions, teasing, and desire too long buried. bucky finally stops holding back, and so do you.
more coming soon...
steve rogers / captain america
coming soon...
loki laufeyson
coming soon...
yelena belova / white widow
her night nurse - fluff
when yelena shows up at your apartment at 2 am, bleeding and sarcastic as ever, it’s not the first time... and probably won’t be the last. you’re just a civilian with a quiet life and no medical training, but somehow, you’ve become her nurse and the place she escapes to. tonight, the injuries are worse. the banter is softer. and maybe, just maybe, something’s shifting between you.
more coming soon...
robert reynolds / the void / the sentry
safe together - fluff
you’re benched with a broken ankle, stuck in the tower while the rest of the team is out on a mission. the only one left behind with you is bob. what starts as awkward company and bob acting like your nurse slowly turns into something deeper, safe, and comforting.
more coming soon...
peter parker / spiderman
coming soon...
ᯓ★ DC
dick grayson / nightwing
coming soon...
ᯓ★ misc
anakin skywalker - star wars
coming soon...
rafe cameron - obx
coming soon...
as always, requests are open and much appreciated!
pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x fem!avenger!younger!reader
summary: after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch.
word count: 5.8k
warning(s): light cursing, alcohol consumption/intoxication, fluff, use of nicknames, humor, age gap, mild suggestive language, reader is a young adult avenger, reader is described as wanting to party
a/n: here's my first fic! it's a throwback to the avengers before the infinity war. i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please like, comment, or reblog! <3
cherry - lana del rey
being a young adult and an avenger at the same time wasn't easy. you wanted to be like others your age... party, stay out late, maybe dance with a random guy you found mildly attractive under the dim nightclub lighting, then bolt when you actually saw his face in the light. hell, you would settle for just shopping or grabbing lunch with your friends, however mundane that sounded.
but, as a full-time avenger, you weren't privy to this lifestyle. the main issue was your schedule. being an avenger isn't exactly a 9–5 job... it's more 24/7. you're meant to always be ready to jump into a mission when needed. with your time mainly consisting of training, meetings, and missions, you didn't exactly have free time.
this didn't stop your friends from pushing, though, and they eventually got through. so, after a few long conversations of begging stark, here you are, stumbling into the elevator of the avengers tower at like 2 in the morning, ever so slightly intoxicated. who can blame you? it was your first night off in a while; of course you took advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and got shitfaced. you might regret it during training later that day, but for now, all that mattered was that you had fun with your friends.
you did regret wearing heels, though. you wanted to trade in your boots for something more fun tonight, but god, did your feet hurt. you were also dying to get out of your minidress. considering your wardrobe now reflects your job and only consists of suits and very little casual clothes, you had to borrow this dress from your friend. you were beginning to remember why you never liked to wear dresses even before joining the avengers.
the elevator dinged, and the door opened to the top floor, the avengers' quarters. you dragged yourself out, hair messy, dress slightly hiked up, and feet already blistering. your makeup made it clear you had been sweating on a dancefloor not long ago. you headed to your room when a voice stopped you in your tracks.
"where ya been?"
you turned to the source, shocked to see bucky barnes sitting on the sofa. he was laid back, one arm draped lazily on the backrest, and the other on his knee. he was almost smirking, likely having a good idea of your whereabouts based on your appearance.
you and the winter soldier weren't exactly close. he was a very quiet and reserved guy, usually a man of few words. your interactions mainly consisted of short conversation and sometimes catching him staring at you on the quinjet or in meetings. you never really thought much of it.
but his tone... his expression right now was different. it was weird, but a good weird.
"why're you awake?" you huffed, walking toward the couch.
"couldn't sleep," he stated simply, scanning your form with that smug look on his face. "you have a fun night?" he chuckled to himself a bit.
"yeah, i went out with some friends," you replied, sitting on the couch. you began fiddling with your heels, wanting to go ahead and relieve yourself of the pain. however, the alcohol was messing with your coordination, and you were struggling rather pathetically.
noticing the pout forming on your lips and the clear trouble you were having, bucky snickered, speaking in his gruff voice, "need some help?"
you looked up at him and nodded, still pouting. without a word, he moved a bit closer to you and curled his fingers around your ankles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he rested them across his lap. you were reclining into the corner of the sofa now, watching him in shock. he hummed as his fingers slipped through the straps of the heels, sliding them off your feet gently. he set them down carefully, his free hand absentmindedly rubbing your calves.
"i've never seen you in anything but your boots," he grinned, turning his head toward you. "so, how much did you drink?" his grin turned into a knowing smirk.
you scoffed, pulling your legs away, drawing your knees to your chest. the short dress wasn’t doing you any favors, and you were probably flashing him, but bucky never looked. he was a gentleman... at least in the ways that mattered. you groaned, rubbing your face sleepily. no point in pretending.
"too much," you muttered.
"yeah, i can tell. you practically stumbled out of the elevator," he chuckled, eyes following your every move.
you let out a half-laugh, sheepish. your head dropped to rest on your knee as you sighed.
"kill me."
"not tonight, doll. i’m off duty."
your head lifted slightly, an eyebrow raising. "did you just call me ‘doll’?" you snickered at the old-fashioned nickname, trying to hide how much it made your heart beat faster.
he smirked, leaning back again with that maddening ease. "i dunno. you kinda look like one."
was he flirting? surely not. he probably saw you as some annoying kid.
"alright, old man. what do you call natasha then? sugar? darling?" you smiled lazily, thinking of more old-timey terms of endearment.
"hell no. she’d break my jaw," he grinned.
"and you think i won’t break your jaw?" you smirked, raising a brow.
bucky scoffed out a laugh. "oh, i'm sure you can, but i don't think you would."
"if i wasn't tipsy, i might've. you're getting off easy this time, grandpa," you giggled, starting to slur your words. your eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, and you found your head resting on your knee again.
bucky laughed at your slurred speech, not sure if it was the alcohol or just exhaustion. "you okay, doll?"
"mhm," you hummed, obviously dozing off.
"alright, i guess i'll babysit the lightweight," he joked, his grin never faltering.
you eventually drifted off, and so did bucky not long after. you both slept better than you had in a while. that was, until you awoke to the stunned faces of the other avengers. they definitely weren't expecting to find you in bucky's arms on the sofa. hell, you weren't expecting it either.
